


Facing Fear

by PilotFlux



Series: The Hero's Burden [1]
Category: Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-26 02:51:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20036692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PilotFlux/pseuds/PilotFlux
Summary: After Quentin Beck revealed his identity to the world, Peter Parker's life is changed, likely forever.How will the amazing web-slinging supergenius deal with the weight of loss and fear, all while shouldering the burden of Tony Stark's legacy?There's only one way to find out.





	1. In The End

**Author's Note:**

> The first part in my series- Keep in mind, both this and One Thousand Tendrils of Fear were written together. Originally, this work was part of that one. So apologies if there's some weirdness, please let me know!

Peter was having trouble remembering what was going on. Through the ringing in his ears, and the sudden lack of oxygen in his lungs.

He blinked. He remembered Mysterio. His lies. All his lies.

Peter remembered the beeping in his suit. Karen altering him to his quickly spiking heart rate. He remembered as people began to stare. Take their cameras out.

He remembered shooting a web to Michelle. Pulling her up, onto a building, away from the danger of New York's newly hostile streets.

He ripped off his mask. He handed it to her, the expression on his face a mix of unreadable and pure emotion. Pure, total, complete, and udder _fear._

MJ was terrified. Not of what that bullshit story said Peter did. But of that look. Of fear. Nothing but _fear._

He muttered a few things. Something about staying where she was; hiding until he came back.

Peter remembers the familiar _thwap_ as his webs adhere to buildings. The rushing of air past his ears, drying out his eyes, stinging them.

He didn't care that people shot pictures and videos of him, unmasked, swinging over his city. It didn't matter anymore.

They knew. They all _FUCKING KNEW._

He landed with a thud on his fire escape, pulling himself inside his room, crashing through the door to find May staring at the television with a look of pure shock.

All he did was grab her by the shoulder, drag her out the door.

He swung. He swung, and swung, and swung, dropping her off on the same barren roof as Michelle.

_Ned. Ned. Get to Ned. Where is he? Does someone have him? Where is he?_

A thousand thoughts a second blitzed their way through Peter's mind; refusing to stop even after he found Ned, safe and sound as he should be. He grabbed him anyway.

Peter didn't give him a second to respond before he zipped Ned back through the city; across the roofs and through the alleys that he knew all too well, setting him with the other two.

He stared at the group. The three people in his life he couldn't lose, that he _refused _to let be taken from him.

Like Tony was. He couldn't lose anyone else. Not after Tony.

The party only stared at Peter with concern. Confusion, too, but. Mostly concern.

May spoke up first.

"Peter, honey," she took a step forward, and he fell into her arms, Ned and Michelle soon joining Peter's side.

"You didn't do a single thing that monster said, Peter. We all know that, okay? Its okay. We're here. We're safe."  
Peter didn't move. He didn't breath, he couldn't open his eyes. His body hung limp like a marionette with cut strings.

Oddly enough, the Bel Air theme begins playing in his head. Strange timing.

Happy was calling him, Karen's voice reverberating through his suit.

He let it ring.

Pepper called, too. He let it ring.

He sat there for what felt like an infinity. A statue, clad in bright blues and reds. Colors that people loved. Colors that people respected.

Not anymore. That got taken from him. He doesn't have that anymore.

Peter pulls away from them slowly. he slaps his chest, letting the suit fall to the ground like a deflated party balloon. He dropped soon after it.

He didn't even react to the feeling of the burning gravel on his skin. He just tossed the suit into the same corner as his mask.

He broke. And the silence with him.

Tears dripped from his eyes. He wasn't just crying. He was _weeping._ How could someone be so cruel? To destroy him? What could torment a person so much that it would make them do this?

Peter didn't know. He didn't. That scared everything out of him.

"P-Peter?" Michelle softly spoke his name, the word slipping out of her slips almost silently, like she was afraid that it would shatter.

He doesn't respond. He just sits there, head hung between his knees. Crying.

The three look to each other; not with the slightest clue of what should be done.

MJ slides down next to him, wrapping her arms around him, holding him tight as he shakes.

_If only she knew, _he thought.

_If only I could tell her. About everything. About being the one, the only, the Amazing Spider-Man. _

_But he couldn't. He couldn't tell anyone. He knew they'd all listen; May and Ned and Michelle. Her, especially. But he couldn't tell them. _

_He couldn't talk to them about what it felt like to be crushed under a warehouse worth of rubble. Or what it felt like as Toome's talons sunk into his skin. Or what it felt like to lose to Thanos. Then turn to ash in Tony's arms, only to come back right back into them. _

_He couldn't talk to them about what it felt like to watch Tony Stark die right in front of his goddam eyes. _

He knew why he couldn't. It was the same reason no one could know who he was. Before Beck fucked it up.

Because he was too afraid to face reality.

Peter was controlled by _fear, _the same thing that ruled the world after Tony fell. After the Avengers dispersed.

The same thing that let Beck manipulate him. Think that he fucking cared about Peter.

Fear of death, and of loneliness, and of meaninglessness.

But worst of all. Fear that he could stop all of it.


	2. Longview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Beck's catastrophic release of Peter's identity, he's at a loss for words, for actions.  
As far as he knows, now everyone he loves and cares for is in danger. Peter needs help. Luckily, there's plenty of people waiting there just for that purpose.

Peter long ago went silent; MJ's arms still wrapped around his bare torso. The New York skyline he'd normally be zipping around, saving the little guy, making his world a better place, is drenched in a shallow orange light from a soft sunset.

It'd be hours since The Bugle reported on Beck's fake story. Since they all ruined Peter's life.

The party were all broken from their own individual daydreams with a honk from down below: A familiar Audi parked at the curb.

Happy Hogan stood, staring up at the roof, his far-to-formal suit still stuffy in the slowly calming evening heat.

"Peter, I know you're up there. Karen pinged us with your location after your vitals dropped."

Peter's eyes shot up. He didn't know what to say, what to do. Michelle kissed his head before pushing away, letting him shift to gaze over the roof's edge.

"H-H-Happy-" Peter started, his face scrunched, unable to speak to Happy without breaking down as he just had.

"I know, kid. I know," Happy nodded, looking down at his shoes before returning the boy's gaze.

God, he was just a kid. He didn't deserve this.

"This isn't the end of everything, alright? You gotta come with me. We're going upstate, to the compound. Pepper's already working on getting the story taken down."

"Everyone knows, Happy. They all know," Peter's voice broke, his hands running through his hair in that same anxious tick that he always did.

"The world knows I'm Spiderman. They all think I killed Beck. Killed all those people-"

"Peter. They're all _lies._ That's all Beck was good at. Lies. His illusions fooled a scared world into thinking he was a hero."

Happy took a deep breath, shaken by the kid's expression.

"You don't deserve this. You're..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. Peter already knew the truth. There wasn't a need to remind the kid how fucked up the situation was.

"Just. Come with me, okay? We'll keep you safe. We'll keep them all safe, too," Happy gestured to the party that all stared down at him, eyes full of worry, arms crossed and hands in pockets. Defensive.

Peter nodded, nearly standing up before remembering his current lack of clothing.

"I, uh," his voice shook, the awkwardness of the situation not necessarily helping him feel any better.

"I need some clothes."

Happy nodded, popping the trunk and pulling a pair of khakis and a dress shirt from it.

"Gotcha covered, kid," Happy smiled softly, raising the package in one hand. It took him a second to remember that they were on top of an eleven story building.

"Uh-"

Happy was interrupted by May gently taking the clothes from him, turning to head back up the fire escape. She looked back down at him, then up at Peter.

"We'll be down soon."  
\\\//

The Avengers compound had been rebuilt not long after the battle with Thanos. Thanks to Tony's nanotech, it was just as before- An immaculate beacon against the shores of upstate New York.

It used to be the home of heros. Not anymore.

Happy's chair spun, the self-driving capabilities of the vehicle directing them up the long, winding road to the front entrance. He spoke.

"Here's the current news," His voice was calm, a tone of optimism shining through.

"Pepper's been working with the Stark Industries legal and PR teams to get this story taken down. So far, they've been successful- Its been removed off the Daily Bugle site, the official recording scrubbed everywhere we could find it. We're in the process of tracking down as many other copies as we can, but its the Internet. And with news this big, its spread everywhere, been downloaded plenty," Happy sighed, wringing his hands.

"We can't get them all. What we _can _ do, though, is disprove these lies."

"Fury's been working through surveillance footage of the bridge to get clips of what happened. Until then, our best bet is EDITH. If we can manage to get any footage from her, maybe from the drones, or some other source, we can instantaneously disprove all the claims that Beck made against you."

"But not about who I am."

Peter's voice was soft, his eyes downcast as he rubs his palms on the knees of his jeans. They'd stopped by his apartment to let May and Peter grab their things.

He'd given MJ the choice to stay away. At her own apartment, in her own solitary. Away from danger.

That offer was declined, almost harshly. She wasn't going to let Peter suffer like this alone.

Nor was Ned.

Happy asked him to repeat what he'd said; the words nearly inaudible.

"There's no reversing the fact that Beck just told the _whole world_ about my identity. Even with the original taken down, even if other news sites cant spread it. The world knows, now. They know who Spider-man is."

The entire car was silent. Peter couldn't look up from the floor. His lips pressed together in a thin line, quivering softly, his eyes stinging with the first signs of tears.

\\\//

Pepper paced in the office she'd taken herself up in. Morgan was being entertained by Sam; one of the compound's last remaining residents.

Peter must be going through hell. Tony and him are- _were, she had to remind herself,- _freakishly similar.

Even when Tony told the world that he was Iron Man, he was scared shitless. And he _willingly_ did it.

She still remembered when he returned to the back room, a wide grin on his face. In his eyes, though, were fear.

She had looked at him in shock. So had Colson and Rhodey.

But Tony _made _ that choice, to tell the world who he was.

But Beck never gave Peter a choice. He decided to thrust him into the spotlight without a single warning, all for some... Sick revenge.

She was pissed.

The phone on her desk pinged, a message from Happy.

**HAPPY HOGAN - TODAY, 9:34 PM**

We're at the lobby. I already made arrangements for the other three, but I figured you'd wanna talk to the kid first. Take as long as you need.

Happy clapped Peter on the shoulder, giving him a soft smile.

"Your bags are in your room. Pepper will be down soon."

He nodded, taking a seat in one of the many cushioned chairs strewn about the waiting room.

The elevator to his left dinged, his head turning to look as Pepper exited; her normally rod-straight hair in chaos, likely from the startling afternoon. Lazy attire hung off her, one of Tony's old shirts and some jeans.

"Oh, Pete. C'mere," She spoke, opening her arms wide. Peter soon found himself in them, face buried in the crook of her neck.

Pepper and Peter had gotten closer after Tony died. Met up frequently for coffee, meals. He'd come down to the cabin when he had the time; spend a few days with her and Morgan. 

It was nice. She was like a second mother, like Tony was a second father. It seemed to make them both feel far less alone.

"I know Happy told you already, but. We're working on it. Fury's looking through surveillance tapes, looking for a solid stream to disprove the murder," Pepper stroked his hair, rubbing his back in an attempt to bring him comfort.

"EDITH could help. We'd need access to her, though, so-"

Peter began to shake, his mind whirling. He broke from Pepper's hug, his eyes full of fear, breathing picking up into pure hyperventilation.

"Tell me only something you'd know."

His eyes fixated on her, and she stammered in confusion.

"What? Peter, what's wrong?"

His voice rose an octave, shaky.

"I said. Tell me only something you could know."

She took a deep breath, palms nervously smoothing out the hem of her shirt.

"After- After Tony's funeral. You didn't leave like the rest of the guests. You just looked at the lake. I got Morgan down for bed, came out to talk to you."

Peter nodded, his eyes still uncertain.

"May left a while ago. You told her to; said you needed a lot more time. I joined you on the deck, took a seat and dipped my feet in the water. You just kept looking," Pepper took a deep breath, the memory still burnt into her mind.

"You sat down too, eventually. Then you-"

She stopped, trying to collect herself.

"You just started crying. Like I've never seen someone cry. It was horrible," She stared down at her own feet, sniffling.

"I hugged you and started crying, too. We sat there like that for a while."

Barely noticeable tears began to stream down Pepper's face, and Peter crumbled to the ground like a sheet of paper in a rainstorm.

He broke down into tears.

"I can't stop being afraid. All the things he made me see, Pepper. He threw MJ off the Eiffel Tower. H-He..."

Peter sobbed, tufts of hair filling his fists.  
"He made Tony crawl out of a grave and try to kill me."  
Pepper looked at him in shock. She was furious; Beck had fucking _ruined_ the kid. All for what? Greed?  
"He forced me in front of a train. It hurt so much."

His body shook, tears staining the ground.

"It hurt so much."

Peter fainted.


	3. Overture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> His world flipped on its head, Peter is left with no other choice.  
Get back up, just like he always has.

Pepper was shaken from her solemn daydream by the thud of Peter's body on the tile.

"Friday! What the hell happened!" Pepper's voice rang out in fear as she rushed by his side, brushing aside the kid's hair and checking his pulse.

The AI's familiar, oddly human tone spoke soon after.

"It appears the stress has gotten to him, Ms. Potts.

The woman sighed, sitting back on her legs as Friday spoke up once more. 

"All vital checks are good, but he needs rest, Ms. Potts. Perhaps it is best we retire him to his room for the night?" Friday offered the suggestion to Pepper softly, knowing fear must be coursing through her veins after Peter dropped.

"Yeah. Yeah, we should," She nods, a sigh of relief slipping through her lips as she stands. "Is Morgan asleep?"

"Yes, Ms. Potts. Should I get Mr. Wilson?"

Pepper sighs, brushing the dust off her calves. "Please, Friday."

\\\//

Night had long ago set on the compound as Sam laid Peter down in the guest bed, giving the kid's shoulder a firm squeeze before he clocked out for the night.

Pepper and May sat on the edge of his bed; Michelle and Ned already settled into their rooms.

Neither spoke for a moment. They were both tired, exhausted by the emotionally trying events of the day. It was May who lent down, brushing aside messy curls to plant a kiss on Peter's forehead.

"Why did Beck have to do this to you, Peter?" Her voice was a whisper, expression full of sadness and anger.

"How could someone do that?"

Pepper looked to the ground before she wrapped her arms around May, hugging her tightly.

"He'll be okay, May. You know our kid. To say he's tough is an understatement."

They both chuckle as May breaks the hug, sniffling while she stands.

"Thank you for this, Pepper. Really."

"Peter's family. There's nothing I wouldn't do for him."

May smiles, kissing Peter's head once more before heading off to her own quarters.

"We'll take care of this. Promise," Pepper leans down, kissing his cheek and giving him a gentle hug before leaving the kid to rest, the door closing with a soft click.

\\\//

Peter woke with a start, sweat soaking through his clothes, drenching his skin. He fumbled about on the stand next to his bed, flipping on the light.

He was alone in his spacious quarters, not surprisingly. The last thing he remembered was his vision fading as he passed out.

He thinks he's had a nightmare, but he can't remember what its about. That's been a common theme, since Beck's death.

Peter stands, stretching. His head is aching, in some horribly painful rendition of a headache. The holographic display against the wall pops up, altering him to the time: eight fifty-four AM.

He searches the room for his bags, finding the duffel he haphazardly stuffed his clothing and books and technology into, as he pulls a new set of clothes from its depths.

A silver case was set next to the duffel.

It used to carry the Stark Suit, as Peter had come to call it. The one he'd used in Berlin.

It was still crazy to him that Tony Stark had taken the time to engineer an entire suit for Peter. He liked to think that, even then, Tony saw something in him. Greatness, he hoped. Or maybe just that same spark of brilliant insanity the man held in the start. Who knew.

Peter's chest swelled with pride, nostalgia, his head swimming with memories of that day in Berlin. Of the drive back home, going for a hug with Tony when he was just opening the door and-

Peter wouldn't ever be able to hug him again.

All the good feelings flushed from his body in an instant. He shook his head, tearing off the dress shirt and khakis Happy had gifted him, tossing them over the thing in an attempt to scrub it from his mind.

Time for a shower.

As Peter moved around the room, the lights slowly raised from dim to bright. His eyes surveyed the space around him, holding his newly re-acquired clothing against his bare chest as he moved to the restrooms. With a wave, he turned the shower on and stepped in.

Peter sighed as the ice-cold water slapped against him, seeping away his body heat. It was a welcome change from the near-feverish state he had been in before.

He finished up, stepping outside to grab a towel and dry off.

Michelle was standing in the doorway.

Peter's eyes went wide as dinner plates, as he used the towel to cover his more... Sensitive parts.

"M-M-MJ! W-Wha-t-t-t the h-h-hell!" His voice was several tones higher than normal, face flushed a deep red.

She was caught in her own sort of trance; eyes slowly gazing over his muscled chest before eventually meeting his eyes, her cheeks blushing their own soft shade of red.

"Shit! Sorry! Uh-" Michelle turns around, letting Peter dry off and get clothed. (As much as she might subconsciously regret it.)

"Pepper and May wanted to talk with you. They said it was important, so. Uh. Yeah," She begins to shuffle out of the room. "I'll just head down-"

"Wait!" Peter stops her, hopping toward the door frame as he hurried to pull on his pants, his curly brown hair a wet and crazy mess. It was unbelievably cute. "C-C-Can we go down together?"

It surprised Michelle that he was just as awkward as he usually is, despite the crushing pressure that he'd been put under.

She smiled, offering a hand. "Yeah, dork. C'mon."

Peter entwined MJ's fingers with his, noting how unnaturally hot they were. It wasn't like she hadn't seen him shirtless before; the hotel incident sprung to mind for a moment, pulling the fleeting blush back into her cheeks.

But she'd never seen him _naked._ She couldn't say it was unpleasant.

He broke the awkward silence with the clearing of his throat.

"So, um. What'd they want me for?"

"Something about EDITH. It was more Pepper than May, but," Her eyes look to the ground, focusing on her shoes.

"They're both worried about you, Peter. I am too, so is Ned."

She sighed, stopping as she lets go of his hand.

"I know what's happening right now isn't putting your mind the best of places. But you need to _talk __to someone._ About what's happened, whats happening," MJ turns, facing Peter, her usually eerily confident facade cracked as she looked to him with worry.

"Please."

He nods. staring down at his feet, hands placid and wringing in front of him.

"MJ, I-" Peter stops, taking a deep breath.

"It's difficult to talk about the things that have happened to me," His hands break, one running through his hair.

"I just. It makes me think about things I don't want to think about."

Michelle raises an eyebrow, slightly confused.

"Like what?"

Peter sighs, the expression heavy and tired. It shouldn't belong to a teenage kid.

"Like how I could've been better. Helped more, done more," His eyes remain on the floor, stuck to the same intersecting line of immaculate tile.

"Like how all that pain could've been avoided if I'd just. Been _better_ than I am."

Michelle stares in near shock as he speaks. It doesn't take her even a second to reply.

"You're the best person I know. Sometimes things just."

She moves close, hugging him tightly.

"Sometimes things just happen. And no matter how good you are, and how strong you are, and how smart, you can't stop them."

Peter cries softly into Michelle's embrace, his body shaking with tremors caused by pains no one so young should have to experience.

Death, loss, pain.

Fear. So much fear.

After a pause, Peter sniffles, pulling from her embrace.

"Let's get downstairs."

\\\//

May and Pepper had been waiting for nearly fifteen minutes for the pair to return. Inches from getting the boy herself, Pepper is interrupted by their arrival in the kitchen.

The pair enter side by side, their hands intertwined- the connection breaking as soon as they notice the two women situated at the kitchen island, sipping tea.

Peter blushes, and Michelle clears her throat.

"So, uh. Yep. Got him," She spins on her heel, ready to stride from the room before realizing she has _absolutely no clue_ where she's going, and so resolves to stand awkwardly by the door, fiddling with the cuff of her cardigan. 

Pepper raises an eyebrow, but quickly shakes the thoughts from her mind as she speaks to Peter.

"Feeling any better?"

He nods, arms crossed as he stares at the ground.

"Yeah. A bit," Peter raises his head as a thought passed through his mind.

"Where's Ned?" His tone is slightly concerned, eyes scanning the room, searching for something he'd missed.

"Asleep," May responds, sipping her tea. "I checked up on him earlier. He's nursing a nasty headcold."

Thoughts start to rush into Peter's head. How'd he manage to forget about Ned's parents? Michelle's mom?

"God, I'm an ass. I didn't even think to tell-"

Pepper cuts him off with a raised finger.

"They're fine, Pete. Happy took them up to my cabin last night," She chuckles. "Free babysitting service for Morgan. They'll be fine."

He sighs, flopping down into a chair near the island. May hands him a cup of coffee; extra creamer, extra sugar. Just as he likes it.

He takes a sip as Pepper begins to speak.

"As of this moment, Peter, you are the only person on this earth with full, unadulterated access to EDITH. That means you might _also_ be the only one who can prove your innocence."

His eyebrows raise, head cocked. "And why's that?"

Pepper stutters, the explanation awkward. She's not even entirely sure if its true. "Because I don't think you want to give her up to anyone. Not after-"

She coughs, rubbing the side of her mug. She didn't need to remind him.

"Am I wrong?"

He shakes his head, taking another sip of his coffee before it turns lukewarm and unlikable.

"No. You're not," Peter sighs, setting down his cup. His voice was shaky.

"I'm sorry. I just. I can't break the paranoia that this is all still some sick joke that Beck's playing on me just to torment me and none of this is actually real-"

Michelle interrupts him. "Quintin Beck is dead, Peter. It's not an illusion."

She ventures over to him, slinking her arms around his neck as she slides into the spare room on the seat.

"I'm real. So is May, so is Pepper, so is Ned. We're here, Peter. We're _real._ "

He takes comfort in the touch; in the words. His face softens and Pepper continues.

"Don't apologize for what that monster did to you. The issue is just," She sighs, setting the cup down as she comes to squat down in front of Peter.

"The things you might have to see again, remember again, to prove what happened and what didn't- I'm worried that won't be good for you. May is, too."

"I might have to watch Beck die again," He delivers the statement in this matter-of-fact way that makes Pepper shiver; The sentence dripping with more emotions than she could count.

It's not like Peter was _sad_ Beck had died. He was an awful, horrible person; he manipulated Peter in more ways then he ever had been before.

But at one point, before he realized the truth, Peter trusted him as a mentor. Like a new Tony. It was a wretched feeling to have all that hope stripped away from him in an instant. Like having a hot knife dragged against his skin.

Plus, watching a person die wasn't exactly the most constructive thing for someone's mental health.

"Yeah. You might. But Fury can't find any footage from the bridge, the cameras were all destroyed in the fight. I don't know how else we can do this."

Peter nods, patting Michelle on the shoulder as he stands. His coffee had long ago passed the point of no return.

He didn't much care about the coffee.

"Give me fifteen minutes."

\\\//

Peter had been sitting in a locked conference room, alone with EDITH, for the past hour. Ned had woken up a while ago, joining the other three as they gazed through the room's translucent glass walls.

Images flashed across the surface of the glasses; classically styled aviators. Exactly Tony's tastes.

A soft smile had crept over Pepper's lips when he'd put them on. Not because of what he was about to do; but because it reminded her of Tony.

He'd always had a thing for aviators.

Within the room, Peter's mind was racing- His lips blurting out request after request for EDITH as she threw up feed after feed for Peter to look through.

The newest one caught his attention.

"EDITH, isolate clip 139."

She did as asked.

"Does it have audio?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker. This clip was recorded as a part of my M.O.M protocol."

Peter stalls for a moment.

"What's M.O.M stand for?" He raises his eyebrow, familiar with Tony's appreciation for acronyms.

"Main Overwatch Maintainer."

He chuckled.

"Play it from the start."

The camera centers on Peter's face, the glasses still situated on Beck as Peter's voice plays back.

"You can't trick me anymore."

The camera shakes as he rips the sidearm from Beck's fist, grabbing EDITH from his head before he hits the ground with a thud; defenseless and defeated.

Peter's voice is almost a scream.

"EDITH, deactivate all the drones!"

Her voice chimes in.

"Stand by for retinal and biometric scan."

A second beats by.

"Scan accepted. Would you like me to execute cancellation protocols for all active drones?"

Peter hears his own voice echoing through the speakers.

"Just do it! Execute them all!"

The footage is crystal clear; the drones ascend through Earth's upper atmosphere, on their way to parking themselves in the ominous orbital launcher from whence they came.

Peter sighs, nodding, knowing it likely won't be enough. But it's a damn good start.

"EDITH, save that clip for safe keeping. I'll be needing it later."

"Of course, Mr. Parker. Anything else?"

Peter shakes his head, pulling the glasses off and tucking them away in his pocket.

Peter had a big decision to make.

He exits the room, smoothing his hair back as he puffs out his cheeks; letting out a long, exaggerated breath.

"I found the original clip of Beck and I on the bridge. What really happened."

Peter breaths in.

"It should be enough to disprove what claims Beck made, but. People could believe it's faked."

It was Peter's own way of saying that the world trusts Quintin Beck more than they do him.

"There's more ways to prove what we're saying is true," Pepper spoke, fingers drumming against her jawline.

"We can hold a press conference and expose Beck for what he really was. A disgruntled employee that was done wrong by Tony that lost his mind and went on a massively destructive rampage in hopes of the best revenge he could think of," Pepper breathes, exhaling some of the most infuriating words she'd ever uttered. "Replacing Tony Stark as the new Iron Man."

Peter took a step closer to the group, taking a seat next to Ned on a couch as he spoke.

"But they still might think it's all a lie made up by Stark Industries to clear Peter. That they're covering his ass, for some reason. Helping his supposed agenda," Ned waved his hands about as he spoke; an oddly comforting familiarity for Peter.

Pepper nodded. "Maybe, but. We can release his employee records. Reinforce it more."

Peter shook his head. "Isn't that insanely illegal? You could get sued, or something."

Michelle spoke up next. "Not if Stark Industries isn't the group who leaks them."

"What exactly are you suggesting, MJ?" The question was pretty pointless; Pepper knew _exactly _what she was saying. It just seemed like far too risky of a move.

"We get some whitehat hacker group to break into past employment records and snatch Beck's. They release it anonymously, no one knows who did it, but the results would still be the same."

"No. It wouldn't be believable. Everything at SI has higher than military grade encryption. It would take even Friday days to get into those records."

Peter stayed silent the entire discussion, watching the back and forth between his girlfriend and pseudo-adoptive mother. They were eerily similar.

"Then we give them days," Michelle counters, leaning forward in her chair. "We hold the press conference and release the footage today. Anyone who doesn't believe it will have the proof in their hands by next week."

Peter coughs, then speaks. "The whole 'clearing me for murder' thing is good and important and stuff. But Beck _released my identity. _My name, my face. No matter what we do there's no way to disprove that. There's too much evidence stacked up against me, between what happened in DC and Europe and all my whole 'always leaving in the middle of stuff' deal-" He runs his hands through his hair, bunching the thick curls in his fists. "It'd take fifteen minutes of digging to prove its true."

The party sat in silence. He was right; they all knew it. The Stark Internship excuse didn't hold much of any weight anymore, not with Tony gone. There were too many loose strings and too many dots to tie them around.

Peter had to make the biggest decision of his life.

Should he try the best he can to lie, likely doing nothing but delaying the inevitable?

Or should he confirm to the world that he, Peter Parker, a sixteen year old kid from Queens, is Spiderman?

The question made him dizzy.


	4. Ego Sum Ostium

The plan was clear, set in stone after Peter transferred EDITH's footage to the SI cloud.

In eight hours, Pepper would hold a press event- Clarifying every last detail of information on Beck that she could, trying to put Peter in the best light she possibly could with the press.

Then he was supposed to walk out in a nice suit, hair tamed, piles of antiperspirant lining his underarms, and decide he whether or not he would confirm to the world that he is, in fact, Spider-man.

To say it was a slightly shaky plan that made Peter a little bit nervous would be the most gargantuan understatement of the century.

So that's what had him pacing around the kitchen, a nervous and anxiety filled wreck, coffee stains and food bits covering his shirt.

It was almost exactly eleven o'clock. The press event was at six. So it was more like seven hours instead of eight, but who was counting?

Well, he was, obviously, but who was paying attention to that?

The answer was, once again, obvious. Every single person in the room.

May and Pepper looked onto Peter with concern. Ned nursed a cup of tea that May insisted he slurp down; Michelle tapped her foot against the concrete absentmindedly as she gazed at him.

Happy entered the room, not to the notice of Peter, nor much of the rest of the room. He approached the spot May was situated at, leaning down to whisper into her ear.

"How long's the kid been pacing for?"

"He started twenty minutes ago. Hasn't stopped once," She whispers back, Happy nodding as his lips twist downward in a slight frown before he spoke up.

"Hey, kid," Peter twisted around in a pivot, his attention on Happy.

"Yeah, Happy?"

"I think you might want to take a break from pacing and sit down for a second."

Peter nodded, his feet already back to their nervous shuffling. He didn't really want to sit still; his brain was moving too fast.

"Nah, I'm good.

Pepper spoke up. "No you're not, Peter. So let us help."

He stopped again, attention shifting to her. "I don't really know what I need help with," Peter's face twisted, staring down at the ground.

That was a lie. He totally did, but there was no way he'd ever get what he was looking for.

Michelle spoke, her voice stopped. "Why don't you talk through it? With one of us, I mean," She stumbles through the last statement awkwardly, arms crossed over her chest.

Peter nodded, eyes returning to the group in front of him.

"Could uh. MJ and I have a second?" The tips of his ears flushed a cherry red, thumb jerking over his shoulder towards the living quarters. "You know, just like, alone."

The atmosphere was thick with an overflowing amount of pure teenage awkwardness; the asking of such a question to the group before him the most violently embarrassing thing he could think of at the moment.

The entire room burst into laughter.

May managed to break through her wheezing, standing as she pulls her hair down from a bun.

"God, I'm sorry, Hun, that was just the most intensely teenage thing I've ever experienced."

Peter flushed red as blood, hands clasped in front of his torso.

"We'll all give you two some space," They all exited soon after, Ned flashing Peter a grin. He replied with a frown.

Michelle dropped into a seat not too far from Peter; and he found himself in one directly across from her. Awkward silence followed, as expected.

She broke it first. "Soooooooo. Are we going to talk it through, loser?"

It never ceased to amazing him how she could be the most comforting person one second and the most in your face one the next. He kinda loved that about her.

"I don't really know where to start," It was honest; he really didn't. Not with everything they _could_ possibly be talking about to soothe his nerves.

She thought briefly, her next question tentative. "What about Tony Stark?"

Peter froze up. "What about him?"

Michelle wasn't surprised by his reaction, Tony hadn't been a good spot for Peter recently. But she pushed on. "Anything. If you want to talk about him, obviously you don't have to, I was just presenting options-"

Peter interrupted her nervous rambling. "Tony Stark was the best person I've ever met."

She calmed slightly, settling in and nodding, ready for whatever Peter was about to spill.

"He always had this- Way of speaking. It was like, no matter what words he was saying, you always wanted to listen, you know?" Peter was staring down at his shoes. "It always felt like he had something to give. Some witty comment, some knowledge or quip or something. But through all that, he _never_ _once_ made you feel like he was wasting your time." Peter sighed, scratching the back of his neck.

"Some people think he had a big ego. He did, a bit. I guess that's why Beck hated him so much. Always in his own little power obsessed world, or whatever," Peter's face scrunched up, a clear attempt to hold back tears. "But that didn't matter. Because he was the best fucking person I'd ever knew."

Michelle's heart was beating out of her chest as Peter went on. She didn't dare interrupt him.

"Even back in Berlin, way back when he barely knew me, he still cared. I wasn't ever a tool for him, an end to his means," Peter stopped for a second, his voice shaking.

"I still remember when he said I could keep his suit. The one he'd specialty made, just for me. I still think he saw something in me, way back then."

Even though the air was chilled, he was sweating. He couldn't stop talking.

"Then when I fucked up big time, and got that ferry chopped in half, and he saved my ass and all those people's lives and I told him how I just wanted to be like him all he said was that he wanted me to be better."

In that moment, Michelle realized everything Peter had gone through. Stark was- God, so much she didn't even know how to quantify it- to Peter. He was a father figure, a mentor, someone to look up to. But beyond all that, and beyond the fact he was Tony _motherfucking _Stark, the man was hope.

More than just for Peter, he was that for everyone. He had all this hope and he shared it with the world and that lead to his death and that made him _everything_ she could think of. She saw the world through Peter's eyes.

"Pepper and I talk about him all the time. She always tells me how he was constantly second guessing himself. Every decision he made, every choice, there was always something she knew was lingering in him that he wanted to do. Something that he thought was right," Peter raised his head. His eyes were puffy, tears streaming down his face. "He wanted to do what was right because he was a fucking _hero._ Not like Beck or some other jealous megalomaniac. He wanted to do what was right not because it benefited him or fueled his ego; He did it because that's what had to be done and he didn't see a single other fucking person doing it."

Peter's eyes bore into Michelle like a drill. She'd never experienced this sort of intensity before.

"He was the best person I knew and the world took him away without a single fucking blink."

Peter curled into a ball, his head buried between his legs. It took Michelle a second to realize that she was crying, too, and all she wanted to do was hold him and talk to him until he didn't have to cry anymore. So she did.

Michelle found herself wrapped around Peter, her face stuffed into the crook of his neck as he cried. "I see that same thing you just described in you, too."

Peter sniffled, mumbling. "What do you mean?"

"You do that same thing. You don't care about what danger you're in, or what's going to happen to you if you don't stop, or anything. You just help people because its the right thing to do."

Her voice is a whisper, now, so quiet that shes barely audible over the air conditioner.

"I never even _met_ Tony and I know for a fact he saw the same spark he had in you," She sighs, gathering her thoughts. "That man carried the hope that the whole entire _world_ relied on. That every single person on this globe waited on with baited breath because they _knew _he'd always be there to save the day. That's just what Tony did. No matter what anyone else says, he was always the light at the end of every tunnel anyone could go down. Because he always did what was _right._"

Michelle's arms wrapped tightly around Peter, trying to calm the storm that had overtaken her mind.

"All I know is that I see that same relentless good-doer attitude in you, Peter. You want to carry the hope, like Tony did," She breathed against his hot, damp skin, her own tears drying up.

"I don't think he would've done what he did if he didn't know you'd be here to give the world that same hope. No matter how long it took."

Peter had calmed significantly as Michelle spoke. He smirked softly at the deejay-vu, her words eerily similar to what Happy had said to him on that plane in Norway.

"I never had enough time with him, MJ," He coughs, head flopping back onto the couch, his voice weak. "After I- Well. After I died, he and Nebula were adrift in space for months. Pepper thought he'd died in the battle on Titan," Peter breathed, remembering how she'd told him what is what like when Tony came back. It was the same feeling Peter had when Strange threw him through that portal on Titan.

Then he had to watch Tony die not half an hour later.

"There was never enough time," He breathed, nearly inaudible, more thinking out loud than anything else.

Michelle's fingers danced over his chest absentmindedly, her chin resting on his shoulder as she spoke. "You're right. There wasn't."

She thought through her next words carefully before she spoke. "But that won't ever stop what Tony was. Who he taught you to be," She looked up at him, her face as soft as he'd ever seen it.

"That won't stop you from being Spiderman."

Peter leaned down, planting a kiss against Michelle's lips. She smirked.

"You know what you're gonna say now, dork?"

He sniffles, wiping the last hint of tears from his eyes as he nods. "Yeah."

Peter raises his head, gazing through the compound's wide windows to the New York City skyline.

It was his home. And damn if a megalomaniac in a make-believe suit of armor would take it from him.

"Yeah. I do."

\\\//

The beginning of the press conference had gone about as well as Pepper expected.

Plenty of mumbling, lots of whispering, and a massive explosion of questioning as soon as she finished her report.

She held all of it off, stacking her papers before returning backstage to an anxiety-ridden Peter. He paced nervously, his hair tussled from its previously neat state.

"You're up," Pepper placed a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to look at her. "You're sure you're ready to do this?"

Peter cleared his throat, nodding after a pause. "I'd be lying if I said I was."

He gazed into Pepper's eyes, hands shoved awkwardly into the pockets of his dress pants. "How did Tony feel after he did it?"

She thought for a moment, chuckling softly at the memory. "He acted in that same tough-guy way he always did, at first. Came backstage with a wide ass grin and loud attitude," Pepper crossed her arms, nodding to herself.

"But the second we got home he started having the biggest panic attack of his life. I couldn't calm him down for hours; he eventually just passed out from exhaustion," Peter's eyes widened at that, but all she did was smile.

"You and Tony were freakishly alike, Peter. Even if you don't realize it."

Her smile turned to a slight frown, but her eyes were still full of that wistful happiness. "He spent every waking moment of his life during those five years thinking about you. I know he did."

Peter listened intently as she spoke.

"Tony loved you, Peter. I think you know that. He'd be more than proud for what you're about to do."

Peter's eyes teared up, arms wrapping around her back as he hugged her as tightly as he could. "Thank you, Pepper."

"Don't sweat it. It's the truth," She smiled, kissing his head as she pushed him toward the door. "Now go kick some ass!"

He chuckled, steeling himself as he straightened his tie and tried to calm his hair.

He pushed through the doors, and was blinded by the activity in the room.

A sea of reporters flooded the hall; eyes all trained on him. There'd been images circulating of someone who looked suspiciously like Peter swinging over the streets of New York after the tape was dropped, but not many people were able to get a good look.

Now they could. And they were going _crazy_.

Peter curled his fists, exhaling heavily before flicking the mic; a piercing ring blasting through the loudspeakers. If he was going to tell the world he's Spiderman, he was damn well going to make sure they heard it.

"Thank you all for coming."

Peter was shaken for a moment by the sheer volume of his own voice reverberating through the building, but continued on anyway.

"There's been uh, news, circulating, about um," _Dammit, he was stumbling over his words again._

Peter closed his eyes, slowly calming his breathing. He knew what to say.

"Quentin Beck was a liar, a fraud, a megalomaniac, and a coward."

The crowd shook with gasps, shocked that Peter could say something about a man who'd _saved the world._ (At least from their perspective.) 

"What Ms. Potts told you all is the truth, whether or not it's accepted. Beck was treated unfairly by Stark, and for that I know we're all remorseful," Peter caught Michelle's eye at the back of the crowd. She gave him a nod, flashing him that oh-so-MJ smirk.

"Because of that, he went insane. Tried to kill me, and a good chunk of Europe, too."

Peter clicked a remote, and behind him a projection began to show the EDITH footage, the audio playing through the speakers. Peter let the crowd work through every last second of it before he turned, gazing into the sea of press.

"I never wanted to become the next Iron Man. Those are the boots of Tony Stark, and no one will ever fill them. Quentin Beck failed to see that."

The entire room seemed to go quiet as he inhaled.

"But that doesn't mean, in a million years, that I will ever, _ever,_ leave Earth defenseless,"

Tony's most famous interview began to play in his head. He found himself following along.

"Because I-" Peter swallowed, remembering the pause, the hesitation in Tony's voice. He understood it now.

"I am Spider-Man."

The room erupted into a slurry of thousands of words; yelling and screaming and shouting to get just one second of his attention.

Peter pushed through the door, walked as calmly as he could to the living quarters, and promptly emptied his stomach contents into the nearest available trashcan.


End file.
